


The Clothes Make the Time Lord

by Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 22:38:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw/pseuds/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Twelfth Doctor settles in to pick out a new set of clothes and is rudely (and definitely not gingerly) interrupted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Clothes Make the Time Lord

**Author's Note:**

> Takes places shortly after Time of the Doctor, but no spoilers for that story. Written before Series 8 debuts, so will almost certainly wind up being slightly AU, but I wanted to get this published while Twelve's outfit is still a mystery.

The Twelfth Doctor made his way into a bathroom, stripping out of a singed waistcoat and unknotting his bootlaces. The old clothes had felt wrong from the time he had regenerated, but he'd finally gotten a few hours to himself to shower and pick out some fresh ones. He hummed to himself as he toweled off and slipped into the wardrobe. He hadn't done velvet for a while, he mused as he pulled on boxers, an undershirt, and a dressing gown. Maybe a bit of plaid—or even a whole kilt! This one did have a bit of a brogue. Would gloves be too tacky? Maybe something more casual this go?

His thoughts were abruptly chopped and left on the tailor-shop floor. “You...”

“Us,” they corrected. 

“We, one might say, hm?” offered the Doctor who was eldest in appearance yet youngest in years. “It's come to our attention that we have come to some disgrace and ridicule on account of our sartorial decisions.”

“But we really don't want to give up the quirks that make us unique,” the most recent Doctor added, subconsciously adjusting his bowtie.

“Therefore,” continued the Doctor wearing a lengthy scarf, “we've decided to inflict some of our least popular choices on you.”

“And that way, we at least won't look quite as bad as you,” said the Doctor with perhaps the most to gain from this experiment. “What?”

“Anyway,” added the Doctor in a black leather jacket, “it's not as though it has to be your main outfit. We all change here and there. Now, let's get started.” He produced an electric trimmer. “Before we get you dolled up, the hair has to go.” He frowned. “Still can't believe we decided mine was the worst.”

“Rose was very clear,” the one in pinstripes and trainers reminded him. “She likes having something to run her fingers through. Off it goes; allons-y!” With ill grace, the newest doctor submitted to having his hair buzzed short.

“Here you go, nice clean shirt to start off with. Plenty of ruffles.” The Doctor produced it from beneath his velvet cloak with a grin.

“Baggy trousers,” added the Doctor with straight, dark, slightly-mussed hair. “On the bright side, they are comfortable.”

“Ill-fitting shoes,” intoned the most Byronic-looking of the Doctors. 

“Silly ribbon tie,” continued the elder statesman of the group. “Though I cannot believe that it lost a vote against the bowties and cravats.”

“The bowtie and cravat votes were split three ways apiece. Now have a garish coat,” added the Doctor wearing a jacket only slightly less terrifying.

“Pair of 3D spectacles,” produced the pinstriped Doctor, tucking them into one jacket pocket.

“And a stalk of celery,” added the one who had stepped off the cricket patch. “In my defense, it did help protect me against certain poisonous gasses.”

“An umbrella as an accessory.” The Doctor with question-marks on his jumper and shirt collar chewed his lip. “I suppose I was going through a bit of a phase.”

“A scarf to keep warm: fifteen feet at least!” He tugged one end of the scarf from his pocket with a grin and kept tugging for several minutes.

“And to top it all off, a fez!” He beamed. “They're still cool.” 

The previous eleven Doctors circled around their latest incarnation, admiring him as he finished dressing. “What can I say?” said the one with the crewcut and the leather jacket. “You look fantastic!”

***

When all but the current Doctor and his most recent past self had filed away, the freshly-regenerated model turned to his predecessor. “What about...?”

“Grouchy gramps?” He laughed and tugged on his bowtie. “Can you see him deigning to show up to a goofy stunt like this? Besides, if you're going to fight and win the Time War, you can't afford to make any fashion missteps.” The two Doctors shared a laugh. “Come on, I'll give you a hand getting out of this stuff before Clara sees you like this, then I've got to scram.”

**Author's Note:**

> Eight's contribution is a reference to his "These shoes fit perfectly! line since I couldn't really think of anything else for him, or for shoes generally.


End file.
